Category Archives: Maebaleia/Satori

Redrüm again

Let’s see, I’ve done a blue dress and a red dress. How about a purple one this time.

A purple cube manifests in the room as sewing Wheeler Wilson thought this. The door opened. Showtime.

—–

“This cat’s ears are soo soft (!).”

“Ma’am — or sir — I hate to rush you but the show’s about to start. Do you want to check in your overcoat or not?” She indicated the indicated sign with the hand and all, warning that the establishment would not be responsible for hats and coats unless checked in at the front.

“I’m thinking, I’m thinking.” She could feel his eyes bore into her back and side. Her *real* son. At long long last. She was actually frozen with indecision. And because she was a chaos object, everything else in the place froze along with her — oops, there goes Doris, not asking questions any longer, not pattering her fingers impatiently on the counter. 7:21PM. Son Cory’s shoulders also move for the last time in the recognition. Mother.

Spade tattooed bartender Sarah escaped with her gum *just* in the nick of time, but heart tattooed assistant Rosalyn didn’t make it. A bit too red herself, I suppose.

—–

Alright Jackie. Explain to me *one* more time about how you escaped the crematorium? And where’s Don?”

“Burt. His name was Burt.”

“*Was*? So… he’s dead. He did his duty.”

“Yes. I guess.” She started crying. “I don’t know.”

“And the rooooocckks??” They were the most important thing for Officer Davis Jefferson, the most complete bastard of a guy on the town’s force, ever in pursuit of the notorious Black Lake Gang and his one-to-one ultimate archrival Brutus, who also goes by Ted. Curious: So close to Burt; just rearrange the beginning letters a tad, a pinch, after dropping off the US. And where were we? Back on Nautilus? It might be so, although the map says Maebaelia. We’ll coordinate and synchronize asap.

Better stop questioning the dangerous bitch and handcuff her, Jefferson thinks here. Haul her unfried ass back to hq.

It wasn’t Brutus but it was a pretty satisfying arrest nonetheless. Might get him a promotion to sgt., even, which would be bad for everybody, the law, law abiding citizens, and crinimals all.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0036, 0412, Maebaleia/Satori, Nautilus, North, Slaashsides

out back

“*Say*, Hucka D. It’s your car again. You know, the one you got from the Mountain in the Air.”

He needs to stop trying. Hucka D. is not coming back. Instead:


“Heater Presents”

“All the hard, impermeable rocks are tucked safely inside, Jackie. I think we’re ready to roll.”

“I’ll get the butter.”

“Funny. I’ll drive while you sober up.” Burt edged around her; entered the cab.

“I’m not drunk.”

“Power I’m referring to,” he said, rolling down the power window in preparation. “Get in.” He opened the door on the other side; rolled down its window too. Burt figured they needed the fresh air after what they’d been through.

—–

The road turned from pavement to dirt, then back to pavement and then finally to rock. “It was rough, Burt,” she said, bouncing along, voicing her confession, knowing the end was looming. “All the dust and the visions.”

“I know. I have a wife, daughter and dog. I’m more rooted than you. I only saw dust,” *bounce*. A hard one there. Took out a tire.

“Sawdust, good.”

“Yeah. 2 comedians on their way to the gas ovens to dispose of the evidence.”

“They’ll never miss us.”

The heavily illuminated crematorium revealed itself around a last, dark, rocky, really bumpy turn in the road. Heaven for some. Heavenly illuminated. They had to stop for a bit and admire it; the flaming entrance like a door to Hell. It *was* Hell. The place was both — 2 places at once. Burt used the pause to check the tires. 3 flats. Perfect. Just enough air left to make it to the end.

They knew the rocks wouldn’t survive the intense heat. They donned their inflammable suits, but it was only for show: the bodies would be consumed along with the stones.

Burt climbed back in; gave the gas a go, opened the passenger door (your choice).

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0036, 0408, collages 2d, Iowa, Maebaleia/Satori

the present

—–

“I think this case is wrapped up, Pretty. *Petty*.” He turns red again. “Pretty much wrapped up,” he tried to cover himself.

“Thanks Officer Glammerpuss.”

The place will have to be quarantined for a week because of the moondust but the business should be able to reopen then.”

“Cathy will be pleased.”

“Yes.”

“Did you get all the rocks?”

“We think so. There’s one that looks like Neil Armstrong, then one like Buzz, then the other one — I assume it’s the 3rd.”

“Collins,” answered Petty to this, due to go on his other job in 2 hours and don a chef’s hat while ditching the inspector’s coat, no rest for this busybody. He reached into it to withdraw a match, ready to relight his current stogie, 8th of the night. At one point there was even 2 in his mouth at once. so excited he was about the news. Queen! Coming to Hardrock. So says Glammerpuss, the big, well, he just loves Queen. They both do! Ah heck, might as well try. Officer seems to be hinting around.

“Listen, Glammerpuss… Chuck.”

“Tim. You call me Tim.”

“Listen, Chuck. I was wondering…”

“Queen?” It just came out of his mouth automatically. Petty turned to stare into his eyes. Chief Wigwam walked up, interrupting the moment as he was suppose to. He gazed at the ribbon on the wrapped up door, symbolic of the case itself. He thought about procedure, getting ducks lined up in a row.

“Better start the paperwork on this Glammerpuss while the memories are fresh. Petty — aren’t you due to present me with a fresh dove omelet in, say (he checks his watch), 2 hours?”

“2 1/2,” states the chef-inspector to this. “Gotta warm up the oven first. Say, Wigwam, can you give us a moment. There’s just one wrinkle on the case we have to iron out.”

“It’s Collins,” spoke Wigwam. “The one they always forget the name of.”

A small smile breaks on Petty’s face. “No, not that, Chief. Something else. Just… give us a moment.”

“Oh alright. See you when the sun comes up. Glammerpuss — paperwork.” He walks away.

(to be continued)

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0036, 0407, Lower Austra^, Maebaleia/Satori, Nautilus

Pack

“In-depth; I don’t know the meaning of that. Is that the same as in deep?”

“Oooooooo. Looks like Alice is in *trouble* again.”

“I don’t like the looks of him, Richard.”

“Noo,” he agreed, daring to move his shoulders a bit in the recognition. “Looks like my mother.”

“Another coat check, over.” Reply.

“Check. Checking the overcoat.”

But Agent Orangetang found that he too could not hardly move a muscle in this place and had to send in his partner Boris who was a spider and undetected and perhaps undetectable in the Big Freeze. The coat check would take all night, and by that time Miss In-depth and her accomplice Mrs. Ordinary had long fled the scene, taking the goodies with them.

“Get my gum,” spoke Sarah only 1/2 to Rosalyn. “I’m going in.”

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0036, 0406, Maebaleia/Satori

looking toward BoShek again

“Vast swaths of abandoned land in the middle of continents, Hucka D. I’m not sure the study of Peakology is even valid any longer.”

“Better stick with Nautilus,” said the Hucka D. who was not Hucka D. if still yellow. Square. “Bahahahahaha.”

—–

One of the people at the bar lit up. One of the people at the bar spoke. “I know I’m not your type.” (long pause). “I realize the kids may be involved.” (long pause) “You’d give that up for me?” (long pause) “Sally doesn’t have to know.” (long pause) “Eliminate the middle man, right.”

She gets up, this Mrs. Ordinary, and moves 10 feet down the bar, which is further than anyone else here could.

“I have a house and home, you see.” (long pause) “I’m a better person than you.”

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0036, 0405, Corsica, Maebaleia/Satori, Nautilus, Southwest^

1st NODAL

Peakology, Hucka D. I’m becoming interested again.”

“Corsica,” Hucka D. uttered to this. “Corsica Corsica Corsica!” But it wasn’t Hucka D. Instead: someone else yellow, someone else who wasn’t who they seemed to be. Square. Wearing pants.

—–

“So when did you start smoking again, Petty? It’s disgusting. And stand back from me why don’t you? This is not your scene.”

“*All* mysteries are my scene,” the confident chef-inspector replied, puffing even more rapidly. Smoke gets in his eyes but he isn’t bothered. Point is: they’re in his as well. Petty wasn’t going to budge from this spot; he was as if pettrified. This might not be pretty; this might get ugly.”

“Listen, *Pettry*.”

Officer Glammerpuss stopped. Did he just call the inspector pretty? Close enough. His face turned red. Love. But also smoke.

There were a lot of things going on here at once. Racism, social inequality, sexual issues, rise of the machine age, to mention just some I’ve spotted so far.

And kitty kats.

(to be continued)

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0036, 0404, Corsica, Maebaleia/Satori, Southwest^

00340516

“So it’s all settled. We know what the head in the center of the sink is.”

“We *do*?” spoke Wheeler, scratching her still beret topped head and trying to look innocent. At least she’d taken the key out of her mouth and dropped it in to be disposed of. *Tried* (damn chain).

“Where’s Baker?” Newt looked all around, as if the true owner of this blog and attached photo-novels, heading toward 34 in number, would manifest from a purple or raspberry tinted corner or wall.

“He needs to be in on this yarn, this story,” agreed Wheeler, also looking around the swamp shack but expecting less. The Prime Minister, the only one who can save the plot, the key. And it seems that he already did. Thanks to the levels, the nodal points. Now we can enter Pipersville unencumbered, he might utter if he were here. But is it really about Pipersville, a Maebaelia location famous for its sinkhole not thought about in a while? We have to think like we’re playing 3 dimensional chess. A bit like Spock. We have to get smarter, or at least more awake.

Pipersville obviously relates to pipes. The key should have passed through, Wheeler realizes, gone down. Yet it stayed at the top — caught. The key to the box that is a house, perhaps this shack itself, inner absorbing outer, passing through each other again and again ad infinitum. We should never have opened it, Wheeler understood for not the first time. Pictures. Occident separated from Orient. East over here, west over there, hemispheres apart.

Inner and outer, inner and outer…

Maybe only Nautilus can save us after all.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0034, 0516, Maebaleia/Satori, Nautilus, Paper Soap, Pipersville/Sink X^, Soap

landmimes 03

“See what we did, Keith B.? I *told* you we couldn’t avoid Horns.”

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0034, 0515, Horns of Hatton^, Maebaleia/Satori, South Dakota

landmimes 02

Beyond the resourcefulness of its porcine citizens, there wasn’t much to recommend the small mining town of Rumpus Ridge. But even in such a hardscrabble place, they had created something they could be proud of: over the years they had collected the biggest ball of string in the world. Folks came from miles around to see it. But one night, a flood carries their prized string away and washes it ashore near the town of Cornwall. Rather than return it, the Cornwallians decide to keep the string for themselves.

https://foursquare.com/v/porters-sculpture-park/4cb6046256fca1cd653a5318/photos

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0034, 0514, Illinois, Maebaleia/Satori, Pipersville/Sink X^, South Dakota

landmimes 01

“Go ahead and take off your head and roll it into the center of the sink. That way you’ll be free of it. You can enter Pipersville unencumbered.”

“Of what?” Hucka Doobie speaks behind me in the void. “Yarns?”

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0034, 0513, Maebaleia/Satori, Pipersville/Sink X^